Gold & Yellow
Up, up, up, the pin-pointed pests climb my golden drapes like gilded landscapes. As I sit at my desk, as I lie in my bed, I see them on their journeys: little fleas, or some such insect of a similar nature, have flagged this territory strictly as their own. I surely am afraid to touch it. Where do they go? Always up, and never anywhere else! I fear that one day I'll feel ambitious enough to want to push that satin to the side, revealing the sky behind them, allowing the sunshine to spill into the new worlds my shadows and dark places have so long created for it, but then like a rainfall my dreams will be crushed with the black and sun-less cloud of creepy crawlies that would pour from wherever it is they go--from up.
You know you've done something good for yourself when the weather mimics that of your dreams. Recently so often has my internal forecast been different than that externally, and more so different than that of what it usually is in my sleep. However, yesterday they aligned after I did something for myself that I've been on the fence about doing for months now. Only for a moment, but yes, the sun seemed to hang lower and more yellow, sparkling, like a giant yolk in the gray sky surrounding it, and everything was as if just out from under a shadow, shiny and new and a bit moist.
I had dreamed that the split-sides of my personality, one being what one would tend to call "The Good Side" and the other being "The Bad Side", were outside of me as different versions of me, represented by color and people from my past. I dreamed the happier version of myself was squashing that version of the more depressed nature. Still, though, there was someone there reinforcing the blue as if to say it was not completely eradicated just yet. As if to say dealing with her would be dealing with it all, and then I might be free, yellow triumphing completely.
I am scared of doing so and at a loss as to what to do in light of that. I continue to stall on the mere thought of it, putting it off in the hopes of getting to a point where I have for so long that I no longer need to deal with it face-to-face because it has worked itself out in the back of my mind. That never happens though, and I fear also that when I open my eyes I'll see that instead of dealing with it, it has simply been so long that I won't be able to when I am finally ready because I lost my chance. Furthermore, I don't know what there is to "deal with" or how to go about it anyway. (Maybe that's an excuse too.)
But in my dreams, I'm winning. So maybe my mistake lies in the panicky feeling I have about needing to deal with anything at all. Perhaps the point is I never did in the first place.
ETA: On the bottom of this glass I am using I notice a slight imprint of an anchor, like the seal of the maker. I swigged down the last of my grapefruit juice and then sat there giggling to myself about it. Oh, Fiona. Undertones of undertones of everything in my life--she is there. I love pink grapefruit juice in my green room.
You know you've done something good for yourself when the weather mimics that of your dreams. Recently so often has my internal forecast been different than that externally, and more so different than that of what it usually is in my sleep. However, yesterday they aligned after I did something for myself that I've been on the fence about doing for months now. Only for a moment, but yes, the sun seemed to hang lower and more yellow, sparkling, like a giant yolk in the gray sky surrounding it, and everything was as if just out from under a shadow, shiny and new and a bit moist.
I had dreamed that the split-sides of my personality, one being what one would tend to call "The Good Side" and the other being "The Bad Side", were outside of me as different versions of me, represented by color and people from my past. I dreamed the happier version of myself was squashing that version of the more depressed nature. Still, though, there was someone there reinforcing the blue as if to say it was not completely eradicated just yet. As if to say dealing with her would be dealing with it all, and then I might be free, yellow triumphing completely.
I am scared of doing so and at a loss as to what to do in light of that. I continue to stall on the mere thought of it, putting it off in the hopes of getting to a point where I have for so long that I no longer need to deal with it face-to-face because it has worked itself out in the back of my mind. That never happens though, and I fear also that when I open my eyes I'll see that instead of dealing with it, it has simply been so long that I won't be able to when I am finally ready because I lost my chance. Furthermore, I don't know what there is to "deal with" or how to go about it anyway. (Maybe that's an excuse too.)
But in my dreams, I'm winning. So maybe my mistake lies in the panicky feeling I have about needing to deal with anything at all. Perhaps the point is I never did in the first place.
ETA: On the bottom of this glass I am using I notice a slight imprint of an anchor, like the seal of the maker. I swigged down the last of my grapefruit juice and then sat there giggling to myself about it. Oh, Fiona. Undertones of undertones of everything in my life--she is there. I love pink grapefruit juice in my green room.